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ohproserpine · 2 months

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for valentine's day, i thought i'd buy a gun.

synopsis: you make your husband mad on purpose tags: fem! reader, married couple, blood&injuries, demi alastor, suggestive/steamy, just a short kinda bad drabble to break my writer's block, ooc-ish alastor, soft alastor at first, vox mentioned don't like? don't interact.

"Cher!"

Alastor greeted you with a smile, his lips curved into a charming yet slightly crooked grin that softened the rugged edges of his appearance.

Leaning against the door frame, he looked every bit the rogue hunter returning from a hunt. His once-neat attire bore tears, burns, and scratches, with both knees of his pants ripped and scuffed thin. His monocle hung loosely on his chest, the glass broken and shards glinting in the light. Tousled strands of crimson hair fell haphazardly across his forehead, framing his rugged features, while a trickle of blood from the cut on his lips dripped down his chin, staining his deathly pale skin.

"Christ!" You jolted off the hotel bed, propelled into action by concern, your heart racing with worry. You began running around, collecting towels, extra clothes, and a first aid kit in a frantic rush.

Alastor moved into the room and stood in the very center, observing your frenzied activity with an amused smirk.

Finally, with all your materials in hand, you rushed to your husband's side, your footsteps echoing against the cold carpet.

"What happened to you?" you asked, filled with concern as you assessed his injuries, your eyes scanning his form for any more signs of distress.

"Just a little scuffle on the hunt, my doe," he replied with a cheer in his tone, spinning his staff in his hand. "Came across a feisty, moronic beast. But nothing I couldn't handle."

"A scuffle?" Disbelief colored your voice as you got on your tiptoes, straining to reach up and dab at the blood on his chin with a damp towel.

Alastor grinned down at you, his eyes tracing your features with tenderness. Always such a pretty view, but seeing you so domestic and sweet for him made him begin to feel hot below the collar. Leaning down, he reached out to sweep a stray strand of hair from your eyes, his long, sharp claws grazing against your skin.

"That can wait," his voice crackled with low static as he pulled you flush against him, chest against chest. "I've missed you dearly."

“Good heavens, Alastor, you’re insatiable,” you chided him playfully with a swat, though the warmth in your tone betrayed your affection. Your fingers lightly brushed against the rough fabric of his torn shirt as you urged him to let you continue tending to his injuries. "Let me fix you up first."

Alastor's ears twitched back as he rolled his eyes at you, but his grip remained firm as he pulled you closer and closer until you were practically dragged towards the bed, falling into his lap with a gentle thud.

"Love," you began to protest, but before you could continue, he silenced you with a deep kiss pressed upon your lips, a low chuckle vibrating against your own, melting any further protest.

He drew back briefly, only to dive back in, his lips tracing a delicate path along your neck. With a familiarity born of passion, his hands roamed, each touch igniting a cascade of sensations that threatened to consume you both.

"Al," you whimpered, unable to resist the intoxicating allure of his touch. As his lips began to trail up your jawline, you found yourself melting into his arms, the tension of the earlier encounter gradually dissipating in the heat of the moment.

He let out a dark chuckle, the sound echoing in the room, as he threw off his ruined coat and loosened the tie around his neck. Gripping onto your hips with a firm hold, he all but threw you off his lap and onto the bed.

The smug bastard. He knew all too well that his affections could smooth over any trouble he found himself in.

"Alastor," you murmured, your senses cutting through the haze of desire, "We really should attend to your wounds first."

Alastor began to move towards you, his claws digging through and tearing the mattress beneath him. "In due time, my heart."

"I am serious," you insisted, ignoring the wide smile you received in return. Alastor merely hummed, a low, melodic sound, as he moved to press himself against you, encasing you in an embrace that felt simultaneously comforting and confining.

You leveled him with a glare. Gritting your teeth, you continued, "What did you even do? I know damn well you didn't get these," you gestured to the charred edges of his shirt, "from an animal."

"Well, dearest, it was from an overlord meeting. You understand how tense politics can become," Alastor countered with a laugh.

"Bushwa," you scowled, jabbing your finger into his chest. "I know a lie when I see one."

"Rather accusatory," Alastor hummed, his tone dismissive.

"Well, I apologize for worrying about my husband, who looks to be on the verge of collapse any moment now," you snapped, frustration seeping into your voice.

"So enough of this," you scolded, your expression hardening. "What did you do?"

"What was necessary," Alastor scoffed, a mirthless chuckle following.

"I'd say he deserved it. You should have seen the way he looks at you," he continued, his voice low and tinged with a hint of warning, the air around him crackling with static.

"Who?" you asked, leaning down to meet his gaze. "There are plenty of people. Plenty of looks."

"Don't act as if you don't notice that pompous television bastard hanging around the hotel nowadays," Alastor's voice crackled with dark intensity, the radio static grew stronger, prickling against your skin and nearly making his words incoherent.

So this is what it's about?

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at Alastor's jealousy, though a small part of you felt a flicker of flattery at his protectiveness.

Your husband's irritation simmered beneath the surface, evident in the subtle set of his jaw and the way his normally smug gaze turned icy. But a mischievous spark ignited within you, tempting you to push his buttons just a bit further, to dance dangerously close to the edge of his patience.

"Are you talking about Vox?" you asked with a smirk playing at your lips. Tilting your head coyly, you met Alastor's gaze with a glint of mischief in your eyes. Your voice was laced with honeyed sarcasm, dripping like molten gold from your lips.

His expression darkened at the mention, a flicker of raw anger crossing his features before he regained his composure.

"You know well who I'm talking about," Alastor's grin was uncanny, his voice carrying the same tone you'd heard the night he faced death. "Don't toy with me."

Despite the seriousness of his tone, you couldn't resist the urge to tease him further. A playful smile danced on your lips as you reached out, gripping onto his tie and pulling him closer, closing the distance between you with a pull.

“What if I found him charming?” you breathed out against his lips, your voice a tantalizing whisper as you ran your hands up the fabric of his undershirt. Your touch was featherlight, fingers smoothing down the wrinkles of his torn button-up with a teasing caress. “I might have let him have me right then and there.”

A sudden sharp pierce of a distorted screech, like a radio malfunctioning, cut through the air, shattering the moment. Claws flying up to grip your face, Alastor broke the kiss and stared down at you with glowing blood-red eyes, their intensity piercing through you. Your breath caught in your chest at the sight, your heart pounding in your ears as you were overcome by a mixture of fear and anticipation.

Alastor called out your name. It was the first time you had heard him utter it in a while. Throughout the years, he had always addressed you by endearing nicknames, leaving you half-convinced that he had forgotten your actual name.

But as the sound of fell from his lips, despite the danger, you found yourself yearning to hear it once more, to feel the weight of your name on his tongue.

"My sweet," Alastor tutted, a screech of radio feedback following him as he cupped your neck in one hand, guiding your gaze back to him. His touch was possessive, firm, and demanding, akin to the control of a puppeteer manipulating his marionette.

"Never utter such words again," he growled softly, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. His grip tightened ever so slightly, sharpened claws a warning of the consequences should you dare to defy him. "No one else shall lay claim to you."

With a defiant tilt of your chin, you met his gaze head-on, refusing to back down in the face of his dominance. "And what if I refuse?" you challenged, your voice steady despite the fear that coiled in your belly.

Alastor's lips curled into a manic grin, his canines shining beneath the lights of the room, his grip tightening ever so slightly as he leaned in closer.

"Then you shall suffer the consequences."

#have this shite drabble sorry for no writing :P i had a competition yesterday and the results come out today + i have prom tonight lolol #sephiewrites #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor imagine #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you #hazbin x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin vox

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headspace-hotel · 1 year

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facts about The Fear, after 20 years of life with her

The Fear is NOT:

an intruder, invader, or some other entity from "outside" You

inappropriate, wrong, or incorrect

a responsibility

a punishment

"irrational" or otherwise able to be understood through a relationship to "rationality"

an "inaccurate" representation of reality

The Fear IS:

an innate part of you

extra-rational—she exists outside and completely independent from "rationality" and does not respond to being judged according to that lens

self-love—her purpose is to protect you and keep you safe

self-sufficient—fear is a 100% whole, complete entity that doesn't "represent" or "reflect" something else

earnest—fear is always a 100% real experience that is exactly as it is felt, and, needing no comparison or reference to any external reality, it is not "dishonest" or "inaccurate"— it asserts a claim about only itself

subversive [not quite the word I am looking for but it will have to do]— is not necessarily beholden to social and cultural norms of what should be feared, how much, and how you should respond. She does not stop existing in the absence or suppression of vocabulary to describe her.

a demand for care— she does not just communicate to you but to the community you are part of; she calls attention to an obligation that this community has toward you, to make sure that you are safe within it and that your experiences are heard and understood.

yeah, so, i've had severe anxiety for my whole life and the way it's been treated and dealt with, and the way I've been taught to understand it, has really fucked me up so I am trying to lay the groundwork for understanding it differently

I think it's pretty fucked up that we're taught to see anxiety as deceptive or inaccurate. Now, obviously the images or projections in my fearful thoughts do not usually "reflect reality," but I have come to see this as...not particularly important?

Teaching an anxiety sufferer to restructure their thoughts to dismiss and contradict "irrational" fear is, in my opinion, the same as teaching a chronic pain sufferer to restructure their thoughts to dismiss and contradict pain with no clear physical source. You might as well speak of "irrational" pain, and pain has the same relationship to rationality that fear has.

"Irrationality" is a quality assigned to fear that is judged by an outside observer, or by the collective cultural biases and hang-ups of a society, as not appropriate to a given situation. This is total fucking nonsense and we should be talking about that, because...well, the first reason is that it implies some kind of fixed standard for what fear ultimately is and isn't for. i like to tell people to watch one of those Coyote Peterson videos where he's going to get a tarantula hawk wasp to sting him, because he's obviously having a strong physical fear response, even though he knows it won't kill him. Is it "rational" to fear suffering and not just death? How much suffering? Sit with that one a little while.

The second reason, which is even more convincing, is that the "rational" brain is not consulted at any point, ever, when a person feels afraid. It's just a response. The fear response is not routed through the conscious, sapient, reasoning brain. And thank God, because if we needed to hear back from an upstairs executive before we could decide whether to run from a lion, our species would be extinct.

Techniques like Cognitive Behavioral Therapy were absolute fucking shit at making my life any better, but fantastic at wrecking my ability to identify my own emotions, because Cognitive Behavioral Therapy for anxiety basically amounts to trying to brainwash yourself into thinking you don't feel the emotions that you do. It's a really neat way to develop bizarre psychosomatic symptoms and start experiencing anxiety through constant body pain, swollen lymph nodes, and digestive issues.

For an institution that pathologizes having "alters," psychiatry sure loves to encourage a suffering person to view normal and ultimately good parts of themselves as distinct, intruding entities to be shoved in a closet somewhere.

And yes. Fear is ultimately a good part of you, a part of you that loves you.

What began to set me free was feeling that acid terror and sickness and rage course through my body and realizing—really realizing—that I was being illuminated with this ancient, powerful force driving me to LIVE.

I want us to make it. I want you to live.

And you know what, I want me to live too.

I abandoned the doctrine of calming down—Lord knows it had never worked anyway—and started really just exploring and existing in the Fear.

How did that feel? Bad. Very very very very very bad and really not productive or helpful at all initially. Which was unavoidable. Necessary. She had been frantically clawing to communicate with me for so long, and I had been shutting her away, silencing her, resenting her presence in my psyche. I started trying to show gratitude toward the signals my body gave me. I started trying to show gratitude toward her—and i guess the Fear was a Her now, this just seemed more respectful.

And it seemed like nothing happened, but several things happened.

I stopped searching for validation. That was a big one. At some point I just...stopped needing a "reason" or justification for the fear I felt (trauma???? neurodivergence???? neurodivergence trauma????) and the fact that I experienced it became completely sufficient and satisfying to me. So much guilt and confusion disappeared.

I also became steadily more confident about my own boundaries, particularly in regards to recovery.

It's awful now that I think about it, but I think I felt this sense of almost moral obligation towards "recovery," as if I needed to "overcome fear" to be Courageous and Virtuous. It made me feel crushing guilt to feel any hesitation about this.

But then this started to change. It became more real to me that was the only person affected by the steps I did or didn't take toward recovery, and there was no moral dimension to it. A therapist couldn't put me in a box I wouldn't willingly go into.

Freedom from these judgmental frameworks is really important to me. I think that I always hated the idea of getting "better" because it seemed like "better" would mean just getting better at submitting to things I was afraid of while everything felt just as bad as it always did on the inside.

And on some level—even though I could never put it into words at the time—I violently hated the idea of "recovery" from some of my fears because it seemed like the ultimate denial of agency. I didn't want to "become okay with it"—the possibility felt dehumanizing. It felt awful.

And I realize now that this is because The Fear represented something I needed to have a right to. Many of my most life-destroying fears centered around things being done to my body, and if I could have pressed a button and been no longer afraid, I wouldn't have, even though it would have spared me so much suffering, because...I needed it to be okay to want agency over my body. I needed it to be right. The Fear, in this case, was a demand that my body be treated as sacred.

I realized that there were many cases where The Fear was a territorial claim of sorts, a demand that certain needs be honored and met—She needs this. This is FUCKING non-negotiable.

And it really...prompted me to look backward on my life and see The Fear differently: not as a responsibility I had failed to shoulder (me?? a little child??? responsible?? Responsible for being brave, when every day felt like facing a firing squad?????) but as a collective responsibility

Because I was not alone in those memories—I was surrounded by adults that saw me suffering, and often dismissed, ignored or ridiculed it. The Fear grew larger and larger; why?—to protect me. Because teachers, nurses, doctors, and camp counselors did not do any of the thousand thousand things they could have done to make that little girl feel safe. Because my well-meaning parents praised me when I was "brave" but I, a little kid, literally couldn't communicate how awful it always felt.

The Fear was not there to torture me. The Fear was and is doing her best to keep me safe. It's not wrong, there's no need for guilt. It just is.

It doesn't feel good. But maybe one day it will feel better.

#anxiety #mental illness #psych critical #autism

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landojpg04 · 1 month

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I should not be writing this as I have finals and a huge project due by Sunday, but on my fyp all I've been listening and seeing is the new Hozier song that is supposed to come out next Friday. The one where he sings You're too sweet for me, and I cannot stop picturing Simon saying that throughout the discourse of your relationship.

When you both first meet, you notice that when this man drinks his coffee, it’s black. No sugar, sweetener, not even creamer. It's just a pure bitter liquid that he sips through a debrief in the morning. Meanwhile, you loved sweeteners, oat milk, almond milk, sweet cream foams, and anything that would rid the bitterness.

“Your coffee is basically sugar.” You heard him grumble as you added more cream to your cup. You smiled and offered him the creamer in your hand.

“Won't kill you to try some; it’ll may make the bitterness go away.” You said.

“I like my coffee black.” He says before walking away.

The next night out, you were running late. You finally made it to the restaurant/bar. The team had already ordered some drinks, but behind you was Simon.

“Wanna order together.” You say, and he just nods, leading the way to the bar.

You catch the attention of the bartender.

“Can I get a cosmo.” You said; he nodded his head and looked at Simon for his.

“Whiskey. Neat.”

You looked at Simon with a puzzling look. He raised his eyebrows as you stared at him.

“Your drink of choice is warm whiskey?” You asked.

“It’s better than a juice with alcohol.”

You just laughed at his remark towards you.

“Simon, you just aren’t a fan of sweet things.” You said as the bartender handed you your drinks.

“Not in the aspects you think.” He says before leading you back to the table.

Johnny knew of the crush Simon never dared to let on towards you. He would always push the lieutenant to at least try and make a move or even hold a conversation longer than 5 minutes with you.

It's not until they are both smoking a cigar and enjoying the quiet of the night when Johnny finally gets a glimpse of his true thoughts.

“Why is it that you won't allow yourself to pursue even past the debriefing room or weekly gatherings? She definitely wouldn’t say no to a night out with just you.”

Simon just blows the smoke he was savoring in his lungs.

“She’s too sweet for me.” That is all he lets on.

Johnny gave him a look, not understanding his thoughts.

“She’s too sweet for me. She can’t be with someone like me. It would be like mixing honey and ash. It wouldn’t work.”

You heard Simon complaining about shoulder pain the other day. You had picked up some lidocaine cream and patches because that is what worked for you.

“Hey Simon,” You tried to get his attention before he got in his truck.

He stopped and turned to see you catching up to you. You had a small bag in your hand. He relaxed on the side of his door as he waited for you.

“Here you go.” You said, handing him the bag.

“What is it?” He said, looking at it before peeking in.

“I heard you complaining about shoulder pain, and I have the same problem, so I thought I would share the love by getting you some of the remedies I use for you.”

“You're too sweet for me.” He whispered to himself, almost as a reminder.

“What?” You said, not picking up on what he had just said.

“Thank you, this is really nice of you.” He said. You nodded and gave him a smile before walking over to your car.

It’s three in the afternoon, and you're in his bed. It's a rainy day, and right now, you both are tucked in under his covers, taking in each other's body heat. You looked up to meet his eyes. He peers down to meet your gaze. Simon could have never thought, after years of this back and forth, that you would still agree to be here with him. You trace the scar that lines his lip. You knew he was afraid to bear himself all to you. To open Pandora's box and let you see him like this. No mask, no guard, just him. He was expecting you to run away from the bitterness he knows surrounds him. But you stayed. And continue to do so.

“You're too sweet for me.” He says before grabbing a hold of your chin and moving you towards his lips.

ANGST PORTION (don't hate me, but this is also in my head)

He’s standing before you. Hood on, hands in the pocket. He gazes down as he mutters the words,

“You're too sweet for me.”

He’s attempting to break things between you. And his reasoning echoes in your head: You're too sweet for me. At the end of the day, you care for the man you love, have been there for him through the darkness, and have shown him the way it feels to be loved. And he's stepping back because of the words–You're too sweet for me.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost imagine #ghost headcanons #task force 141 #tf 141 #cod #cod headcanons #ghost angst #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon riley angst

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 7 months

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i was thinking a whiskey if you please? :) with a side of a bbf!steve rogers? (brother’s best friend and that brother is bucky) idk recently i’ve found similarities in my physical appearance to bucky so it was just a random thought lol- but basically steve is a sweetheart towards the reader and that causes her to crush on him (and ofc cause he’s hot) and the prompt could be "Let him watch." (him being bucky 🤭)

Let Him Watch.

warnings - cursing. allusions to sexual content.

my love, I hope you don't mind, but I decided to make this a college!au. the idea of college bucky and steve is just so delicious to me I couldn't resist <3

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

A party. A one off visit. The boy you've been in love with since you were a kid.

Your brothers best friend.

The notorious frat boy who's always had a soft spot for you.

There's so many people in this house, you can barely stand. Bass bouncing, bodies moving, sweat dripping down backs. Lights flashing, drinks flowing, hands roaming and exploring.

You're sandwiched between two strangers when you feel a solo cups worth of liquid pour down your back, drenching you. You gasp and turn around, but can't find the culprit. Looking around the room, you search for Bucky, hoping he'll give you the key to his room so you can grab a new shirt from your overnight bag.

You fight your way through the crowd, desperate to find your brother. You can see what seems like a thousand frat boys, not one of them the one you want.

"Are you okay?" someone shouts at you, warm hand finding your shoulder.

It's Steve, who looks a little concerned, crease etched in between his brows.

"Someone threw a drink down my back," you yell back. "I can't find Bucky!"

"He's with Nat, in the backyard. Come with me."

Before you can protest, he's intertwining his fingers with yours, pulling you upstairs.

You've never been in Steve's room at college. Back home, you've been in it a thousand times, but this is different. This is a place for grown up Steve, not a kid anymore Steve. This feels more sacred, somehow.

"Sorry about the mess."

You look around, and can't understand what he's talking about. The place is virtually spotless, everything neat and tidy.

"You're the least messy person I know, Steve."

He laughs and opens his closet, searching through his clothes.

"Which one? Green or blue?"

He holds up two shirts, one in each hand, offering them to you.

"Blue, please. It'll go with my skirt better."

You take it from him, a tiffany coloured tee with ROGERS written on the back. You remember him wearing it, at a practise football tournament a couple of years back.

Without thinking, you peel your wet shirt over your head, standing in front of Steve in your bra. The beer you've been sipping on has lowered your inhibitions, bravery coursing through your veins.

His eyes roam over you before he shakes his head, diverting his gaze.

"You're so beautiful," he mumbles. "Most beautiful girl in the world."

You look at him incredulously, unsure if you heard him correctly.

"What?"

"You heard me. I've never met anyone as pretty as you."

"Steve, you're drunk."

"No drunker than you are."

He takes a step towards you, trailing his fingertips up your arm.

"Shouldn't you be with some college cheerleader or something?" you whisper.

He laughs, low and warm.

"I haven't slept with anyone since I got here."

You scoff.

"You've been here for months. I don't believe that for a second."

"It's true. I've been too busy thinking about-"

He cuts himself off, dancing his fingers up to rest against your cheek. He cradles your face in his hand, looking at you seriously.

"I can't stop thinking about you."

"Me?" you whisper in disbelief.

"Yes, you. I know it's not fair on Bucky, but I don't know what else to do. It's not my fault his sister is so easy to fall in love with."

"You love me?" you choke out, eyes welling with tears. You take a breath to try and ground yourself, half convinced you're dreaming.

"I think I've loved you for years. Do you know how excited I was when Bucky said you were coming to visit? Most exciting thing to happen to me in months. I really miss you."

"I miss you too. So much. It's surprisingly hard being apart."

"I don't want to hurt Bucky," he murmurs.

"Me neither. That's the last thing I want to do. Ever."

"But I'm also sick of denying what I want."

He lunges forward and captures your lips, pulling you into him. It's tender and sweet and full of so many years of things unsaid.

You pull away to rest your forehead on his, breathing him in.

"I love you too, by the way," you whisper against his lips.

The grin he gives you is so bright, it's like looking at the sun. He is your sun. Your light in the dark. The only boy you've ever loved.

A harsh knock on the door startles you both.

"Steve, it's Sam! You in there? I need you to be my beer pong partner!"

"I'll, uh, I'll be out in a second!" Steve yells back.

"Come on, hotshot. They're wondering where you are," you chuckle, leaning up to kiss him chastely.

You throw his shirt on and check your reflection in the mirror, turning around when you hear Steve groan.

"What?"

"You look so good in my clothes."

"Control yourself, Rogers, or else Bucky's going to see."

"Let him watch," he winks, grinning when you laugh.

He links your hands and pulls you out of the door, ready to accept the inevitable consequences of being in love with his best friends sister.

#steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #murphy's 3k celebration #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x reader fluff #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel fluff #captain america x reader #captain america fluff #chris evans #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x barnes!reader #brothersbestfriend!steve rogers #bbf!steve rogers

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withleeknow · 4 months

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remedy.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort; implies that minho has anxiety, unedited bc i am me and you shouldn't expect much from me lmao word count: 1.2k note: hello hello!! i've been meaning to write this since the day of the rock-star comeback but i'm only getting around to finishing it now lol. but the timing's pretty neat so consider this a christmas present from me and mine to you and yours!! <33

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

when the sun rouses you awake in the morning, you feel two arms loosely wrapped around you that weren't there before you fell asleep last night.

you smile to yourself, enjoying the warmth and comfort that he brings you. home, finally.

you turn in his hold, as gently as you can to not disturb your slumbering minho.

you don’t know when exactly he got back, but it couldn’t have been more than a couple of hours ago. sometimes, when he has night schedules, he doesn’t usually return until the sun is peeking over the horizon. you’re used to him having to work throughout the wee hours of the night every other week. you don’t like it, but you’re used to it.

you expect to find him snoozing peacefully beside you, with his handsome face and his lips parted cutely as he lightly snores, but when you finally shuffle around to look at him, you instantly frown.

a frown that matches his own.

baby, you think, what’s wrong?

even in his sleep, minho’s brows are knitted together, the corners of his mouth tugged downward like he’s having a bad dream. the instant concern that rushes through you parts the hazy fog in your brain, and then... you remember.

it was only half past three in the morning when your phone buzzed to life, the vibrations resounding brassily against the wooden surface of your nightstand. reaching out blindly for the device, you only needed to peek through one eye to scan the time and the caller id before you held it to your ear, your face still smushed against your fluffy pillow.

"hmm?"

"i'm sorry," minho was quick to apologize. "did i wake you?" he sounded rushed, like he had wandered off to a corner to steal a few minutes for himself before having to go back.

you made a noncommittal noise, already feeling the exhaustion luring you back to dreamland. it had been a long week and you'd endured five whole days just to get to the weekend, to be able to spend hours on end with your boyfriend. it'd be just you and him, wrapped up together in your cozy little bubble, all your stresses and troubles kept at bay. he was always the best part of your days, your weeks, your months, even your years.

even though you were drifting, you still managed to ask, "is everything okay?"

"yeah, everything’s fine. i just missed you."

it made you smile nonetheless. he didn’t often disturb you in the middle of the night just to be sappy with you whenever he was stuck working odd hours, but it wasn’t necessarily anything out of the ordinary. minho could still be needy and clingy sometimes. it was one of the things that you loved most about him - that he could be a grumpy cat most of the time, but underneath that prickly exterior, he was just a big softie. you loved it even more that you were the only person who could bring out that side of him.

"missed you too," you mumbled. it didn’t sound at all lively, but you knew he could tell that you meant it.

you caught a sigh from his end before he continued. though this time, he let his defenses down when he spoke. his voice came out along with a tired exhale, laced with something that you would’ve been able to pick up on had your mind not been delirious with sleep. "wanna be there with you," he said in earnest. "want you to be here with me."

"when are you coming home?" you asked, even though the words came out a little garbled, your voice heavy with sleep.

"in a couple hours. i'll be home right after this."

"okay. we can-" cue a big yawn. "we can stay in bed as long as you want in the morning."

"yeah, that sounds nice."

"then i’ll see you in a bit, okay?"

he paused briefly before his next words came out a little unsteady, hesitant. the unease with which he spoke bypassed your unassuming radar completely. "can we just stay on the phone?"

"min-"

"you don't have to talk to me. just... stay with me for a while."

you think you might've passed out again after that, the subsequent silence and his breathing on the other end having lulled you back to sleep in a matter of seconds.

my love, it brings tears to your eyes just thinking about it, how could i have missed it?

you quietly move closer to him, shuffling inch by inch until you’re chest to chest, hoping his body could sense your warmth and be comforted by it, even just a little bit. you press a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, but even that simple touch stirs him awake even though minho is usually a deep sleeper.

his eyes slowly open, and you suppose the tug on your heartstrings loosens when the furrow between his brows eases as he takes in the sight of you.

he heaves a sigh of relief, and it’s like you can actually see some of the tension leaving his body as he pulls you to him, holding you against him so tightly that it’s impossible to move even if you wanted to.

"hi," you say, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, snuggling further into him until it’s hard to tell if the heartbeat you feel is yours or his.

"hi," he replies, his soft lips placing a greeting kiss on the top of your head.

"bad day?" night, but oh well. technicalities.

his answer comes muffled against your hair, though you feel the slight vibration of his chest when he mutters, "it wasn’t that bad. i was just a little overwhelmed."

"but it's better now?"

"much better, now that you’re here."

truthfully, you don’t really know what to say in moments like this. you want to be able to offer him reassuring words that could ease his nerves and calm his raging sea, but you’re not good with words. you never have been. you don’t think you ever will be, as much as you want to. for him.

it makes you feel guilty at times, not being able to give minho the peace he needs.

you do try though, to comfort him as much as you can.

"i love you," you say quietly. your arm wraps around him, your palm landing on his upper back where your fingers tenderly soothe the firm muscles you find. i'm sorry i wasn't there for you. i wish i have the right words to say to you.

"i could listen to you breathe and feel ten times better," he admits, putting some distance between your faces so he can look at you, as if it'll help emphasize his words. "i don’t even need you to do anything. i just need you. you’re more than enough for me."

his eyes bore into yours, glittering with nothing but a kind of sincerity that he never shows anyone but you. you kiss him then, soft and slow. you want to pour as much love into him as you possibly can. and even then you don't think it can amount to a fraction of what he deserves.

but nonetheless, you try. you try because he means the world to you.

i'll do better for you. let me share your burdens with you.

pulling away, you tell him, as your palm gently holds his cheek, a touch which he leans into instantaneously. "go back to sleep. i’ve got you."

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know fluff #lee know angst #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids #lee know #lee minho

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upsidedownwithsteve · 10 months

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i've always loved the idea of a sunshiney/hippie reader with grumpy metalhead eddie, possibly involving her crystal collection or a tarot reading lol

Eddie was used to finding things in his van, his trailer, his bag - shit, even his pockets - that weren’t his.

It was collateral damage from running a bunch of preteens around, sharing babysitting duties with Steve, playing taxi cab and breakfast club. He’d find DnD die that weren’t his, old batteries from walkie talkies, sticky candy wrappers and lost baseball hats, trading cards and half empty bottles of pop that El wasn’t really supposed to drink.

And every time, he’d fuss about it, pretending to be meaner than he was, but fuck, sometimes it got a little too much. His trailer wasn’t big enough for him and Wayne as it was, and finding Lucas’ basketball uniform in his laundry only added to the list of things he needed to get done.

(He always washed it.)

So he’d chew everyone out and throw back their belongings to them like grenades, ranting about personal space and how his van wasn’t a trash can on wheels.

(“Yes it is,” Mike would always interject.)

And then you came along. Bright and bathed in colour, a pop of sunshine beside Eddie’s black and silver get up, always smiling even when the boy was scowling. It took a month, maybe two, of dating when Eddie started finding your things amongst his. It wasn’t anything overwhelming, like a toothbrush at his sink, or your clothes in his wardrobe - no, it was too early for that.

But he’d work a shift at the garage and sneak out the back for a unauthorised smoke break, hand shoved in his pocket to search for his lighter. He’d come up with a handful of rocks instead, pretty, colourful crystals that shone in the sunlight.

He didn’t need to ask to know that they were yours.

And when he drove home, his van rattling and the music blaring, another shiny thing caught his eye. Tucked amongst his cassettes, a lump of something smooth and dark, so black it was almost purple, hints of blue in its depths. He ran his thumb over it, smiling, and tucked it in his pocket with the rest.

By the time he saw you the next day, he’d collected a dozen of the things, scattered around his room, a tiny purple stone that looked like glass in the corner of his shower, a sky blue rock under his pillow.

He held them out to you like a handful of candy, pretty, shiny and colourful, dazzling in the sunlight - just like he thought of you. Eddie smiled when you scrunched your nose at him, looking a little embarrassed. But he took your hand in his free one, helping you clamber onto the bed beside him, your back to his chest as you sat between his spread legs.

Your pink dress clashed with his red shirt, an angry skull logo on the front of his, tiny daisies on yours.

You watched Eddie line up the crystals by size, a neat stripe of bright colour on his dark blue bedsheets. The boy hooked his chin over your shoulder and you could feel the smile he pressed against your cheek, one he’d saved up all day, just for you. He kissed your jaw, nuzzled his face into the crook of your shoulder, stubble scraping your skin until you squealed and laughed.

“These are pretty,” he finally said and you hummed, agreeing. He pointed to the black stone he’d found in his van. “What’s this for?”

“It’s obsidian,” you told him, picking the crystal up and turning it over in your hand. “S’meant to help with protection.”

Something inside Eddie’s chest bloomed, a pretty warmth that he was quickly associating with you. He smiled, hid it in your shoulder and tried not to turn as pink as your shoulder.

“Yeah? That’s awesome.” He pointed to another one, glittery and jagged and lilac coloured. “What about this-?”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #Eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson oneshot #eddie baby blurb

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soleminisanction · 7 months

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I've always really liked DC's in-house choice of referring to their various superhero groupings as "families," but it has gotten a little frustrating recently with people both in canon and in fandom seeming to forget that families aren't just a parental-unit-and-kids formation. They're complicated, and a lot of the DC families are too messy to fit into that neat little nuclear family mode.

Which is to say... here's some scattered thoughts/summaries about how these families are actually structured in canon, because I think it's interesting:

Supers -- The smaller, more traditional Superfamily (Clark, Lois, Kara, Kon, etc.) is a pretty traditional Midwestern nuclear family, with Jimmy Olsen filling the role of close family friend/goofy neighbor sidekick (in the Silver Age, he was Kara's would-be suitor) and Steel feeling more like part of Clark's personal circle of friends. The recent line up, though, with Jon, the twins, Kong and Nat? Starts to feel more like some old dynasty or noble house, complete with fostered foundlings and the Steels acting almost like knights under a noble's banner, possibly reflective of what the House of El would have been on Krypton.

Arrows -- Might currently be the closet to a traditional nuclear family structure. You've got Ollie and Dinah, their younger sisters, Ollie's adopted and biological children, and Ollie's granddaughter through Roy, plus by some counts Roy's co-parent and her sister as "in-laws." Bonnie and Cissie King-Jones are adjacent to but not technically "part" of the family, though I believe it's implied at one point that Ollie might also be Cissie's bio-dad. Pretty straightforward, these guys are actually family and they act like it, for good and ill.

Shazam Family -- Also a literal, actual family. Not originally, the original golden age "Marvel Family" was considerably more complicated and only Billy and Mary were full siblings, but nowadays the whole point of the modern Shazam family is that they're foster siblings united by familial love and that's fantastic. Meanwhile your average Black Adam story is 75% angsty family drama, 25% Egyptian mythology references.

Flashes -- Technically closer to three nuclear families (the Allens, the Wests and the Garricks; four if you include the Quicks), two of whom are united by marriage and all of whom are bound by the Speedforce, which, given its semi-spiritual connections to things like Speedster afterlives, can act almost like a religious force that connects them to the additional members like Avery, Circuit Breaker and Max as Bart's foster-dad. They're a big, sprawling tree with more cousins than siblings, the kind of family that functionally has a reunion every Christmas and Thanksgiving.

Lanterns -- Now these guys are the exception that proves my point about the whole 'family' thing not being straightforward. The lanterns aren't a family, they're a corps. Soldiers. Space cops. Comrades-in-arms. They respect each other, have each other's backs, might even like or care about each other, but those last two are optional, and they don't have the same kind of assumed obligations towards each other that a family would have. They're friends and co-workers, not family, but that doesn't mean their relationships are less significant, they're just different.

Wonders -- Roughly half of them are either one of Hippolyta's daughters (Diana, Donna, Nubia pre-Crisis) or related to them through the gods (Cassie), and the other half (Artemis, Yara, modern-age Nubia) use sister as a term of endearment more in a utopian lesbian commune kind of way. I think they brought Steve Trevor back recently? He's basically the Ken in this equation and perfectly fine with that role. None of which should be surprising if you've seen Professor Marston and the Wonder Women.

Bats -- This is the one that people get really wrong when they try to force it into a traditional family structure. Don't let WFA fool you, the Bats are and have always been way more a snarled mess of tangled interpersonal relationships than they've ever been a cohesive family. Whether Dick is Bruce's son or his brother depends on what era you're talking about, and the former reading is much more recent than you think -- as in "started cropping up in the early 2000s" recent. Barbara is both Cassandra's sister and her mother. Duke and Steph both have living parents and neither of them want or would ever dream of treating Bruce like their dad; Tim was the same way until his dad died. None of the Robins ever lived in the mansion together, nor did Cass. Babs considered Jean-Paul Valley her brother and Huntress is so close to Tim she once hallucinated him calling her Big Sister. They're a beautiful mess of people finding places where their broken edges fit together into something that works for them and trying to reduce it down to a cozy nuclear family is just so goddamn reductive and lazy.

Blue Beetles -- Are only tangentially related to each other. Seriously, they never even get direct mentoring, each one just takes over when the previous one dies and works on completely different rules from the other two. They're complete strangers bound by a legacy and that's honestly pretty fun.

Zataras -- There's only three of them and they're literally a father, daughter and cousin.

Martians -- Not really a family because there's only the two of them, but an interesting case where the two survivors of what was functionally a war of mutually assured destruction came together in an attempt to find some peace in the aftermath of what they'd lost.

Titans -- The JLA and JSA aren't really in the "family" category, but the Titans lean into it hard, mostly because they're a textbook found family. They don't mirror a nuclear family structure, they're simply a group of people who came together to form a mutual support network. They're the idealized college friends you grew into your own with, some of them childhood companions and others you only met once you leave home for the first time, but all of them friends that you manage to maintain contact with for life, with everyone coming back together even as you scatter and do your own things.

Young Justice -- Meanwhile, this team is the chaotic group of misfits you hung out with when you were a teenager, especially when you were just starting to be allowed to act without adult supervision. You drive each other crazy, none of you know you're all queer as fuck, and you'd fight a bear for any of them even if they asked you not to. They'd probably be insulted if you tried to call them a family. They come out here to get away from their families, thank you very much.

#dc comics #meta #batfamily #super family #arrow family #flash family #wonder women #shazam family #batman #superman #wonder woman #green lantern #teen titans #young justice #kinda rambling #just kinda throwing some ideas together #families of choice #non-traditional families

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thedarlingdearestdead · 5 months

Text

Midnight confessions

Summary: Neither of you can sleep and you both have feelings, they are revealed!

Warnings: Full on smut, little plot. R18.

Word count: 1,690

“You should be asleep.”

You startle out of your thoughts. “So should you, General Skywalker.”

He smiled in the dim light of palace quarters which had been provided for you, as Jedi ambassadors on Bespin. “I couldn’t.”

“Me neither. Something feels unsettled here.” You were wearing just a light white shirt and a pair of sleeping shorts, hair undone in messy curls around your head. Your appearance was far from the neat Jedi presentation he was used to seeing. You were shining in the moonlight. “I feel unsettled.” You meet his eyes across the room.

“You feel it to?” He asks, curious and desperate for you to see his true meaning.

“I’ve felt it since I boarded your ship. Since seeing you after such a long period of time had past. It’s like…”

There was a long pause. “Like what?” He asks, moving across the room, closer to you.

“Like nothing I’ve felt before, like nothing I should feel.”

He nods, finally coming to a stop in front of you. “And if I told you I did know this feeling? That I felt it even then?”

You looked deep into his eyes, searching for the truth and finding the sincerity you had come to expect from Anakin Skywalker. His confession sent a shiver down your spine. It was a secret you both had kept buried for years, a feeling that had grown quietly in the shadows of your duties as Jedi.

"Anakin, you can't mean… We can’t” You choked out, his hand reaching out to your face.

“I can. We can.” His voice goes husky, desperate, his eyes searching yours in the darkness.

The room seemed to shrink around you, and the air grew heavy with unspoken desires and longing. Anakin's fingers brushed against your cheek, and you leaned into his touch, your body, and mind both, weakening.

"We've dedicated our lives to the Jedi Order," you whispered, your voice barely audible, your breath uneven. "We have responsibilities, Anakin. We can't just throw it all away."

“But can you resist this feeling? Can you suffer, and make me suffer, all for a code?”

You let your eyes flutter to the ground, losing them briefly, trying to gather your thoughts and your resolve. The Jedi Code had always been clear: emotions, especially romantic ones, were to be avoided. Yet here you were, standing in the moonlight with the man you loved, torn between duty and desire.

Anakin takes your chin in his hand and lifts your gaze to meet his. You see the fire in his eyes, the same passion that’s burning within you. “I can’t resist it anymore, (Y/N). I’ve tried for too long. I've fought it, but it's stronger than me. And now, after seeing you again, it’s stronger than anything.”

He leans in, his lips hovering just above yours. You can feel his hot breath on your skin, feel the tension building between you. You know you should resist, that you should push him away and leave the room, but you can’t. You’re powerless to his touch, to the feelings that are surging within you.

Without another word, Anakin closes the gap between you, pressing his lips to yours in a fiery kiss. His hands move to your hips, holding you close to him, as he deepens the kiss. You’re lost in him, in the passion that had lain dormant inside of you for too long.

"I know it's not easy," he said softly, “But I think we can make it work.”

He started kissing at your neck and you melted into him, the last vestiges of your resistance dissolving under his lips.

Anakin's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss. You felt his hands move down your back, sending shivers down your spine, and you knew there was no going back.

Nothing could stop you now. You and Anakin were in a world of your own, a world where only the two of you existed. He lifted you up in his arms, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, never breaking the kiss.

Anakin carried you to the large sofa in the center of the room, and gently lay you down. He looked at you, searching for any sign of hesitation, but all he found was burning desire. You wanted him as much as he wanted you.

He kissed you again, his lips trailing down your neck, your collarbone, and finally pulled down your nightshirt, reaching your breasts. He took one of your nipples into his mouth, and you gasped in pleasure. You allowed yourself to be swept away by the passion you both felt, in this moment, all that mattered was Anakin.

Your hands moved to his beautiful curly hair, digging into the strand at the back as he continued his attack on your chest, the moan he let out sent shivers down in between your legs.

He removes your top completely, leaving you almost completely bare to him. He grins when you try to take his too. He leans back on the couch, on his knees in between your legs to strip it off.

You gaze hungrily at his body, shaped from an adolescence of heavy training. He is slim but hard and toned with muscles and a spattering of scars. You are stunned into silence which makes him grin with a dangerous look in his eyes. He must know how much you want him, how much you’ve always wanted him.

You feel yourself growing impossibly wet and pull him to you hungrily, wiping the pride off of his face as he melts into you. He kisses you on the mouth and returns to sucking and biting at your breasts, removing your own top completely and causing you to arch your back into him. He groans at the sight.

Anakin moves lower on you, kissing a line down your stomach, pulling down your sleep shorts to reveal your core. He takes a moment to push your legs apart and stare at your entrance. You feel the heat rising in you and feel yourself growing aroused by the intensity of his gaze. You want to kick him, make him move, make him so something. You’re getting impatient as he takes his time, stoking your thighs and playing with you what you would call an impossible cruelty.

“Look at me” Anakin says and you respond to the dominant command in his voice. He gazes deep into your eyes as his fingers trail through into you, finally, eliciting a moan from you. “You’re so beautiful.” He says breathlessly, and you pull him back down to your lips. “I love you.”

Anakin moves his fingers through your wetness, exploring your folds and teasing your clit just a bit, just enough to learn you, watch you, tease you. You feel the air grow thick with tension as the feeling of his hands invades you, his moves gets faster and your breathe becomes more short. Then he swoops forward, face first and his tongue joins his fingers, you almost scream, bringing your hand to your mouth to muffle your voice.

“Don’t stop” You say, though he shows no sign of wanting to. On the contrary his moves only become more desperate, more intense as he laps you up, the fire in your stomach grows ever more, burning down all of your past defences, wondering why you ever had any in the first place. Why you and Anakin hadn’t been sneaking away to do this for years.

Then suddenly you meet your crescendo, biting hard on hand as you thrust into his face, coming all over him. His groan vibrates through you, shaking your sensitive core. He doesn’t give you much time to recover before taking one last stroke at your juices then coming up to kiss you on the mouth.

The taste of yourself on him makes you see stars, and the way he thrusts himself into you a moment later gives you a vision of the entire galaxy.

He is rough and desperate and claws at you ferociously. His mouth takes a constant place on yours, his hands tracing down your body, his fingers gripping at your own and digging you further into the cushions. All the while he thrusts at a furious pace.

“Force, this is more than I could ever have imagined.” His voice was so gruff and gravelly and his eyes were shut as he breaks from kissing you to breathe hard above you.

You take the opportunity to kiss at his neck and bring your leg up to change the angle slightly, you catch him off guard and hear his breath hitch followed by a hard groan.

You are both reaching your limit, your movements are long and drawn out and your breath comes in short gasps as each of you gets ready for that final push. Then Anakin begins to thrust faster, his rhythm turning erratic and fierce as he growls out in pleasure. You can feel the heat rise in you again as he moves in you, rubbing against the right spot, and you feel your chest tighten again on the verge of your second orgasm.

“Ani-“ You manage to mouth out.

As he slams into you again, he calls out your name and you feel the last of his control break apart, pushing you both over the edge. Anakin's face tenses as he emits three hard grunts, his last for a while, into your neck, each one of them triggering your orgasm. You clench to his body, nails digging into the skin of his back as your insides shake and your insides fill up with him.

It is minutes later that the two of you can see, and breathe normally. It takes minutes more for you to move, both exhausted from your activity, from the emotions which came with it. You had crossed a line that you could never come back from. With Anakin. And it was amazing. You find yourself grinning into his shoulder and he looks up at you with the exact same expression on his face.

This was the start of something…

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #clone wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars prequels #anakin skywalker #star wars fandom #star wars anakin #anakin smut #star wars #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x you #darth vader

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theabigailthorn · 8 months

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In the kindest way possible, I miss when your videos had more solid conclusions. I've been a fan of your content for years and it even got me interested in philosophy as a whole, but the past two videos especially have felt like they were building up to a powerful conclusion like many of your videos in the past have had, only to turn into a Nebula promotion before it feels like you've actually come to the thesis.

It saddens me because I think you're very good at strong ending arguments, and without even realizing it (before now) I had associated your videos with leaving off on a sort of mic-drop moment that always made me very excited and empowered. Of course, this is only my opinion, and your videos are your own and I'm incredibly happy for your play and your work on Nebula, I just can't help but notice it feels like something's missing now.

I have a lot of feelings about this feedback

Firstly, Philosophy Tube is very deliberately explorative, not conclusive. The point is to give people the concepts they need so they can go away and apply them themselves, not to tell anyone what to think. So I consciously resist firm intellectual conclusions when I'm writing because I think they risk terminating people's thought processes.

Secondly, I've been running my own experiments and I've noticed that a tiny minority of people always say this no matter how explicitly I state the conclusion. On the most recent episode I forced myself to state it very clearly - even called the final section of the video 'Conclusions' - which suggests to me that what you're after is emotional catharsis rather than intellectual resolution. When you talk about feeling "excited and empowered" those are emotional states rather than the state of having learned a new thing. And that's fine, some videos need to end on an emotional beat! But not all do or can. If I made every single one do that it would start to feel artificial. Certain ones like Identity need it, but just like not every theatre show needs a curtain call not every Philosophy Tube video needs to end on a wham line. Sometimes we're learning and we're in educationmode.

Thirdly, I would argue the most recent one ends on a note of emotional ambivalence (very deliberately so!) because that's the whole point: it's not meant to wrap everything up in a neat bow and tell you how to feel, it's supposed to present this multifaceted problem and encourage you to work through your own thoughts and feelings on it. And that is a kind of emotional conclusion in its own right, albeit a deliberately unsatisfying one.

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spiralsdrop · 2 months

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This is a hypnosis story I've always loved:

“My friends and I were at a bar across town. It was dark, a little loud, underground, with dim red lights and drinks that cost too much. But there were lots of plush little booths and we managed to snag ourselves a corner, so we sat and got deep into drinking and chatting.

After an hour or so, there was a big commotion going on in one corner with people falling around laughing. Before we saw what was going on, everyone involved had stumbled away hooting and giggling. But my friend Rachel leads me over and there’s this young guy kind of holding court.

“What’s going on?” Rachel asks, over the music.

“Oh, I’m hypnotising people,” he says, casually, like people do that all the time.

“For real? You’re a hypnotist?”

“Yes I am,” he says.

Rachel thinks this is hysterical. I think it sounds ridiculous.

“We should dooooooo this!” she says, waving over the two other friends we’re out with.

“Should we?”

“We should! YOU should.”

“I don’t think so,” I say, but she’s already tugging on this guy’s arm… and pushing me towards him.

“Hypnotise Emma!”

“Yeah?”

“She REALLY wants to!”

He looks at me.

“Do you want to?”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure I’m un-hypnotisable.”

“Well,” he says. “Wanna find out?”

“You can try,” I say. I’m smirking a little bit. Silly me.

“Well, OK then. Here, take a seat.”

Like I said, I thought it was ridiculous.

There are two small wooden chairs facing each other and I sit in one. I smooth down the short, tight little dress I’m wearing. He – neat grey t-shirt, jeans, a tattoo of swirling black lines, like a soundwave, on one arm, a mischievous sparkle in his deep brown eyes, like someone who’s just had a sinfully good idea – sits on the other one, pulls it closer so our knees are almost touching. I’m a little nervous… but determined not to let it show.

“OK,” he says. He takes my arms and places them on the arm of my chair, palms up. He holds my hands with his and gives them a reassuring squeeze.

“You OK?��

“I’m fine.”

“This is going to be fun, OK?”

“Well, if you say so.”

Three of my friends are now gathered watching us. I hear Rachel say “I bet she thinks she’s a chicken five minutes from now.”

He lets go of my hands and wraps his gently around my wrists, his thumb on each, like he’s taking my pulse. He starts talking to me low and urgently, looking into my eyes warmly.

“So what’s your name?”

“Emma.”

“Where are we?”

“A bar.”

“What colour are the lights here?”

“Red.”

“Only red?”

“Some white.”

“What’s your name again?”

“Emma.”

”OK, Emma. We’re good.”

His thumbs are tracing circles on my skin.

His questions became… rhetorical. Think of my feet on the floor. Were they heavy? Did it feel good to just rest them there? Doesn’t it feel warm? Isn’t the chair comfortable?

It did feel comfortable. It felt like the second when an elevator stops descending and you’re that little bit heavier. I felt warm like sinking into a fresh bath. He put his hand on my bare shoulder. It felt solid and good.

Didn’t I feel calm? Isn’t it nice? Try closing my eyes. Keep listening to his voice. Even raised over the music is voice, is like a heavy blanket on a lazy Sunday. His hand slides to rest under my hair, on the back of my neck. Weren’t my wrists relaxed? Like they could rest on the arms of the chair forever. His other hand taps out a rhythm on my knee. Calm like warm sunshine on my skin. The sounds around me drift off into a dull hubbub. This was more relaxing than I th…

…I open my eyes and time has jumped just a little. Maybe it’s a few seconds later – or a few minutes? Which was weird. But it can’t have been long. My friends were all still there. And I still felt good. Calm. Nice. The rest of the world feels a little muffled, like the air is thicker.

“All awake, Emma?”

I nod.

“How do you feel?”

“I feel… fine.”

“That’s good.”

He rested his fingertips on my wrists and… oh.

“How does that feel?”

For some reason, it felt SO good. It was like one of those feelings that ran all through your body, like the feeling I get when my neck is being kissed, or my nipples are teased, or having ‘good girl’ growled quietly in my ear.

“It feels good,” I murmured. I was still sort of sleepy.

His fingertips started running slowly up and down my wrists, from my up-turned palms to the crook of my elbow. It was like the sexiest teasing I’d ever felt. Tingles rushed up to my shoulders and through my chest. I could feel my nipples getting hard under my dress.

“Do you like the way it feels?”

I nodded. The tingling was spreading through my tummy and between my legs. I was calm and floaty and burningly turned on all at once. He pulled his hands away. I bit my lip in frustration.

“More?”

“Yeah.”

He picked up his chair and moved it. I felt him sit down behind me. He leaned in close and whispered “Close your eyes…” into my ear. I did what I was told.

The moment his hands touched my back I gasped like lightning ran down my spine to my crotch. Every tiny hair on my neck stood up in reaction to his touch.

“Fuck.”

Each stroke of my shoulder blades felt like being stroked… everywhere, all at once. My clit was getting harder and more sensitive with each rub. My underwear felt hot and wet. I could barely control my breathing.

His hands slid over my shoulders and teasingly over my upper arms. It was like ecstasy. Just the fabric of my underwear against my clit was delicious. I slid my ass against the wooden chair instinctively trying to find some friction or relief. As he blew gently on the back of my neck I leaned back and spread my legs in the confused hope of being touched. I fucking ached with pleasure.

“It’s such a strong feeling,” he murmured in my ear, “when you think about it.”

He pulled his hands away once again. My heart was thudding in my chest, my nipples were hard through the fabric of my dress which had ridden up from my accidental grinding against the seat. Even with my eyes closed, I looked like a hot mess but I was so turned on I was beyond caring. I was just glad the club was so dark.

He puts brought his chair around to my side and just in front, so it was perpendicular to me. He sits in, close.

“How are you feeling?”

I open my eyes. I’m dimly aware of the giggling of my friends, and the gaze of some other onlookers over me. I feel a wave of heat as my face reddens.

“Don’t worry about them,” he says. “Look at me.”

“This is crazy,” I mouthed.

”I told you it would be fun.”

I’m speechless.

“Keep going?”

I was nodding before I even thought about it.

He scoots in front of me a little more. “Put your leg on my lap, Emma.” I lift my bare leg and place it tentatively across his knees.

His hand rests on my knee and a jolt of pleasure hit me. It snakes up my thigh to my wet cunt and fizzles deep me, my hips twitching. To my embarrassment I let out a moan of pure pleasure.

His fingertips are stroking my skin in soft, little circles. My thighs are starting to shake. Laughter among the crowd sends me blushing. He shakes his head in their direction and then looks at me.

“Emma, look at me.”

His twinkling eyes lock mine.

“You’ve been doing really well. Don’t worry about them. Listen to my voice.”

I nod in breathless agreement. His fingertips start drumming slowly on top of my thigh, one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two three..

It feels like a fluttering feeling inside me and I scrunch my eyes closed in delight. I squirm in my seat, squeezing my thighs together tightly just for a hint of pressure on my clit.

“Emma, look at me.”

“You’ve been doing really well. I know it feels intense. It feels so strong…”

I’m trembling with each quickening tap. One-two-three-one-two-three-one-two-three-one-two-three…

“It’s getting stronger and stronger, Emma. Like you can’t hold back.”

The drumming moves imperceptibly up my thigh, to the edge of my dress and it feels 100 times stronger. I’m arching my back. My hands grip the arm of the chair like they’re my bedsheets when I’m touching myself. I’m so close…

“Emma, listen to me.”

“Oh my god.”

“Emma, listen.”

“I’m… please… I…”

“Let go.”

With those two words the orgasm hits me like an explosion, my thighs clamping together, the contractions in my cunt are so strong I bend double in my chair.

“Let go.”

It feels like I’m being fucked hard and deep while I cum, my g-spot is spasming with pleasure. I cry out helplessly.

“Let go.”

His hand gripping my thigh sends another orgasm shivering through my clit and then bursting inside of me. I feel a hot flood of wetness soak through my panties as I involuntarily squirt a little.

“Let go.”

I slump back in the chair as my hips jolt into the air. I can hear my friends shrieking with laughter as they watch me orgasm uncontrollably. I try to hold back but I can’t stop cumming. Each squeeze of my thigh sends another wave of powerful juddering contractions through my pussy, makes me moan, twitch, gush, gasp, grind, shake, cum.

I’ve never cum for so long.

“OK, you. Come here.”

He takes my leg off his lap and comes in close to me. He wraps his hand on my neck and pulls me toward him, my forehead resting on my shoulder, exhausted and trembling. “Just relax,” he murmurs. “Listen to my voice…”

I sink back into a calm darkness.

A few moments later I wake up, sheepish and embarrassed… but even so, I can’t stop grinning. He strokes my wrist one last time – no unbearable pleasure, this time – and smiles. I tentatively stand up, and my legs are like jelly. Rebecca grabs me incredulously and says “OH. MY. GOD.”

“I. KNOW.”

I tell her I have to excuse myself to use the bathroom and shakily stumble in that direction. It’s busy with girls streaming in and out, but in the mirror, I see my face and chest are flushed pink. And my hair’s a mess.

I shut myself in the cool dark cubicle and slide off my panties, down my ankles and over my shoes and step out of them. They’re so drenched from my cum I throw them in the trash can. I instinctively reach between my legs and fuck, I’m still so wet and sensitive. I lean back against the cubicle door and let my fingertips find my slick, hard, throbbing clit. It feel so good to finally feel the touch my body had been craving.

Around me were the sounds of doors opening and closing, girls talking, water running, the throbbing music from next door and the hand-dryer blowing.

I was so hungry to feel full inside and I greedily pushed two fingers deep inside, sliding in deliciously easily. My knees buckled with satisfaction as I slowly, quietly fucked myself. Each time the hand dryer switched on, I pumped my fingers in and out hard and fast, the noise of the motor covering the sounds of my wetness, until it stopped and I had to wait for more agonising seconds.

When I couldn’t take it any more, with one last blast of the hand dryer, I frantically rubbed my clit, my other hand grabbing my tit, and then those commanding words “Let go… let go… let go…” suddenly reverberating in my head, until, my hand clamped over my mouth, I came for the second time that night, my legs buckling in shock, sliding down the cubicle door until I was sat on my heels, waves of pleasure still shuddering through my thighs.

I sat on the toilet for a few minutes and straightened myself out, until the red flush of orgasm had faded from my chest. Then I went back out to join my friends… embarrassed, sans underwear but oh-so-satisfied.

And when I’m alone, the words ‘let go…’ can still push me over the edge sometimes :)”

I would love to give proper credit to this author. If any of you know who wrote this please let me know so I can tag them and give them the credit they deserve.

#hypnosis #hypnotized girl #hypnogasm

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yunietunie · 7 months

Text

Look at Me

(nsfw)

König was a quiet yet authoritative Colonel at the base. His eyes always seemed to look as if he was searching for something, wanting something. How long would it go on for before he caved?

fem!reader, colonel!könig, smut, MDNI, 18+, unprotected!sex, pnv,

A/n: this one has got to be my favourites, enjoyed writing it. This was one I had before i even started using tumblr.

let me know who you want next!!!!

König. The man you laid your eyes on when you first came to KorTac. Unsure if he’d ever look your way since you were just only a private, he a Colonel. You were a knife specialist, ranging in hand to hand combat, it being your strong point. In meetings you would catch his eyes darting to you every few seconds, obviously searching for something.

Months had passed and you didn’t really think much of König. Sure, he was somewhat alluring but he didn't even talk to you, and everytime you did he seemed to not respond back. He seemed nervous or something. But it was for sure, he enjoyed eye contact with you.

This game of cat and mouse played constantly with your irises fighting for dominance. Through his sniper hood, you could never tell what he was thinking or saying, his eyes displayed a poker face like expression. His voice seemed commanding in the field, but outside of it, he was very impassive.

Whenever he did talk, it was never directed at you. You must admit, that man’s voice alone was enough to make you want something from him. Your fingers would fulfill your thoughts when you were alone in your barracks room. You hoped he never would find out.

While you were cleaning your knives from a previous mission that went sort of bad, you heard a knock on the side of the doorframe behind you.

“Verzeihung..?” The 208cm Austrian man asked you as you swiveled your head to meet his gaze. His eyes staring right down at you while he shifted his weight onto one hip. “Yes..?” You said quietly looking up to meet his icy stare. He looked… disheveled? Like he wanted to ask you something but was being held back by his own conscience. You raise an eyebrow to his stance and his sudden appearance. He was always busy… why was König standing before you at your desk?

“Can.. I borrow you for a moment, bitte?”His velvety voice corarsed you, with a type of uncertainty in his tone. He also seemed rushed. He motioned you up from the bench, hoping you’d oblige. You reluctantly nodded and got up from your seat. You thought it was to discuss your actions in your previous mission. But worst of all, you thought it was because he was going to ask you about what you thought of him.

His breath would hitch in his throat as he would see you standing below him with a smaller frame than his own. Leaving the area, König walked down the corridor quickly, with you tailing behind him. Concentration filling his aura. As you both stride to his destination of his choice, your eyes landed on a door. His quarters. A thousand questions filled your head as to why he asked you to come to his quarters in the middle of your work. Opening the door and leading you inside, he closed it, locking it behind himself. Your eyes would wander around his neat room, everything was clean and well organized.

“Sitzen.” He spoke to you, motioning towards the edge of the bed. His sniper hood never dismissed from his face as he stared at you. You sit, he watches. You move, he took note. He was watching you as some type of prey. This raised even more questions as he began walking closer to you and looked down upon your body as you sat near the edge.

“I brought you here because it is more quiet.” König would begin as he watched your eyes for any expression. He was beating around the bush, especially since he was fidgeting with his gloves, slipping them off after a few minutes of contemplating. “Mein Schatz, I've noticed your eyes on me.”

Shit. You were so sure he didn't see you at all. You seemed practically invisible, at least at work and rank wise. Yeah, the two of you would make eye contact but you assumed he didn’t think much of it. You only gave a nervous laugh, almost challenging that comment as he spoke it. You looked around the room, hoping to find some excuse, but before you could König would step even closer. “I don’t mind it really. Especially when I first saw you.”

You were stunned. No, shocked that the Colonel would be talking to you like this. You couldn’t help but feel flustered. He still seemed desperate. Antsy even. He began taking off his tactical gear, tossing it aside, whilst keeping the hood over his face.

“Have you been thinking of me?’ He asked the question you feared. It wasn’t really a question, well, since he already knew the answer to this. He’d catch your attention when he’d give meetings or when he was in the break room drinking some water. And what about those dreams?

“Yes…” You admitted quietly, a little bit embarrassed at yourself. This pressure began knotting in your lower stomach.

“So ein ungezogenes Mädchen.” König replied back with an airy smirk you could tell that was under his hidden face. You didn’t quite understand what he was saying, however goosebumps began to cover your skin. Your eyes seemed to drift away from his body, trying to think. He moved closer, towering over you, placing a hand under your chin to force direction back to his eyes. That only made the pressure in your lower stomach begin turning to a throbbing one.

“That’s okay,” He said as he continued looking down at you. He took note of your small squirming to readjust your sitting position. “Liebling. I must admit… I've been thinking about you too.” König continued his wording. In truth, you could feel yourself getting wet by the way he talked about you. The way he admitted he thought about you. So he did know and now he was just watching you.

He moved closer, bending down to your eye level, which instinctively made you jerk your head backwards. He moved even closer. You moved back. He came closer. This would go on until he had you backed up against the headboard of his bed, crawling over your squirming body. Caught in a stare down between each other.

“I need you, liebling.” He said with a slight quivery tone, moving his face closer to yours. Your eyes flutter at the very thought. You’ve been only dreaming about this moment. Now he admitted he wanted you.

“Then you’ll have me.” You purred confidently as you stared back at him. There was going to be no hiding it now, especially with your slick folds giving away your thoughts.

You could hear a scoff given under the hood as he placed his thumb on your lower lip, looking at the plushness of it. He had you in his grips and he was not letting you go. At least not right now. König would take his time taking off the top of your uniform. He wanted to be gentle. He knew if he could, he’d tear you apart in an instant. Brushing your uniform top off, König’s eyes landed on your chest. It almost seemed like he was growing needy, especially as he rushed to slip your bra off.

Grabbing one of your breasts, he placed his other hand under you on the small of your back, lifting you slightly towards him. He moved his hood slightly up and placed his lips around your supple nipple. That earned him a small gasp from you.

His tongue swirls around it, making it more sensitive with each movement. He occasionally nibbles lightly on it, sending jolting sensations down your body. While he was tending to your breast, he made sure to keep eye contact with you. How he loved your eyes when you enjoyed yourself, the reactions from them.

Soon after, he moved to your other breast, giving it the same attention as you gave small whimpers to the gesture. He removed his hand from your lower back and grabbed it on your waist. Giving it a gentle squeeze before letting it travel down between your uniform pants.

Two fingers rubbing against the fabric of your pants. He was teasing you and you knew it. His warm wet lips soon left your hard and sensitive nipple. On top of you, you turn your head away to avert your gaze from him, only for him to move his face closer to yours and speak to you in a whisper.

“Look at me… I want to see your pretty eyes.” He pleaded quietly, turning your sight to his direction once more. He wanted you to watch him. He wanted you to watch him see how much of a mess he could make you with just a few words and a few simple touches.

His calloused hands made their way to your pant button where he unfastened them. Along with your top, he threw it down to the floor as well, disregarding them. König would look down and his eyes widened to the coated wet spot between your panties.

“So wet for me already, liebling?” He would ask quietly while rubbing your clit through your panties in small tight circles. He’d continue the soft motion while your body trembled at the gentle touch. His fingers tore away from your pussy, slithering them under the side of your panties. Sliding them down your ankles, he kept one hand on your hip for grip support.

“I need to stretch you out. Or else I'll break you in half.” His accent rolled off his tongue. He looked down at your folds, pushing one finger into your greedy hole. A wince ran through your body as he curled it. He was teasing you again. König put his gaze back to your irises that were pleading for more. His voice was inviting when you clenched around his fingers.

He began pumping your pussy, his finger coated with your juices, becoming more slick by the second. Small whines would escape your lips as you kept looking at the scene. The pressure building once more as your clit began to throb.

Without warning, he pushed another finger into you, making sure to spread you open. If this is what only two of his fingers did to you, imagine what his cock would do to you. As he continued to move at a slow and steady pace, that needy aura gathered around him again. His other hand moved down to your pussy as well.

Slathering his thumb with saliva from under his worn out hood, he placed it on your clit. The rest of his hand applies pressure on your lower stomach. König’s thumb began rubbing in small circles as his fingers desperately tried to find your sweet spot. The only thing to fill the room were whines and moans as you began squirming around him, not able to keep still.

You instinctively try to shut your thighs back together. “It’s okay, liebling. Open up for me.” König‘s angelic voice would command you. With that demand, you give into his authoritative voice.

Your cunt was throbbing and it felt so good to be stretched out by your own Colonel. His fingers now sliding in and out with ease, due to your own pussy betraying you. He curled his fingers. He found it. The spot that made your body writhe under him. Your desperate moans got his pace to move forcibly, even on your clit.

For a man who was afraid to talk to people, he sure knew how to ravish you. It was almost unfair with the amount of teasing and toying he did with you. Then it was nothing. He slipped his fingers out your vibrating pussy then placed them in his mouth under the hood. Sucking your juices off his textured fingers. You were left with a shallow breath. Well, that was until he unbuttoned his pants and slipped his cock out.

It twitched, his eyes never wavering from your glistening and watering eyes. He was painfully hard, and even though you couldn’t see his full face, you knew he wanted it badly. Wanted you badly.

“Bitte.” He begged, he pleaded, he wanted as he inched closer to your cunt that was still longing to be filled once more. Your pussy would clench at nothing, but the size difference made you turn your gaze away from him. The anticipation of it slipping inside was enough to make your body squirm.

“Look at me, liebling. I won’t do anything until I see your pretty eyes.” He purred looking down at you as the tip of his cock rubbed against your heated slit. You slowly turned your gaze to him with a hot face, your lips pursing into a fine line.

He toyed around your pussy with the tip, just trying to make sure you were wet enough for him. The same desperate eyes meeting with your own. A sudden pain filled your lower stomach as he began pushing his hips closer to you. His cock entering your slick cunt. He was just head deep and it felt like he was going to tear you apart. You look down at the damage but his hand moves to your chin to look at him once more, then back to your hip. Squeezing it. Preparing you.

“Jesu–” Before you could finish your one worded comment, his cock already smothered against your cervix, bending it into his personal mold. A grunt escaped his mouth as he filled your pussy up. He loved the idea that you were smaller than him. König loved getting this reaction of pushing his cock into your needy cunt and stretching it out.

You were a mess, especially as he began pulling in and out, admiring your face as he did so.

He slightly whimpered himself when he looked down and saw the large bulge from your lower stomach from him pumping in and out. He was trying to be gentle. Trying to go at a pace that wouldn’t break you. He was holding back. He didn’t know how much longer he could do that. His eyes looked back up at you for permission. You give him a nod.

Rocking his hips faster now, your cervix was already beginning to become bruised. He was so deep in you now, you thought your uterus was going to break open. His body slapping against yours, your moans and whines, his grunts and groans were the only thing filling the room. His grip on your hip is even harder, making a red mark from his handprint.

“You’re taking me so well.” König would say between thrusts. He would put his weight on you, his face close to your ear as he moved even faster. He tried. He tried to hold back but you felt too good. Your tight cunt wrapping around his cock like a fucking glove. There were no words coming out of his mouth and definitely none coming from yours as his tip decimated your violated body.

His other hand found itself on the other side of your hip, gripping it hard as well. Leaving yet another hand print. König would move his ear closer to your mouth to hear how good he was fucking you, how good he was filling up your cunt with his cock.

“Fuck.. So warm.” König muttered under his breath while feeling your warmth engulfing him inside you. He began at slow paces, making sure to get you adjusted to his shaft. It twitched and jolted within your walls. In and out, in and out, his body now slamming against yours as he hugged onto your body. You arched your back in response, squirming and writhing under his thrusts.

He stopped and lifted himself off you to look down at the mess he created of you. There were tears prickling the corners of your eyes. His hips would pound into you vigorously, bruising into your cervix. He would grunt into your ear, wanting you to hear how good you made him feel. König’s grip on your soft waist would begin to become painful, perhaps even leaving a bruise around the area.

“Bitte. Bitte, liebling. Let me please you. Let me fill you. Bitte.. I need it.” He pleaded with an airy and shallow breath as he was still deep in you. You couldn’t give a response right away as you were still trying to find words. Instead, you wrapped your legs around his pelvis and your walls tightened around him, giving his cock permission to spill into you.

A groan would expel out of his mouth, a few whines when he began to feel himself getting closer.

Another round of plundering movements would meet your cervix, he began to move with even more force. His breath was ragged and heavy, his chest falling fast. The bed shook under you, your vision was beginning to become hazed by the pleasure you felt. You couldn’t help it, you moaned his name out with neediness it was almost embarrassing. You cunt clenching around his cock, hoping to squeeze him off every last drop.

"So close." He moaned out next to your ear, his hot breath trickling with a bit of desperation when he felt himself become closer to his climax. The feeling of being swallowed by your warmth was throwing him into a feral overdrive.

“Oh.. Just like that. Please.” he would whine whilst his eyes kept themselves trained on yours. You couldn't help but feel as if he was trying to spear you open, but you could admit that the feeling was immaculate. The feeling of your legs tightening around his waist only made his thrusts more forcible and his voice more prominent.

This guy was really plundering you down to the depths of hell. "Inside?" He asked whispering, his brows furrowing slightly. "Inside." You would confirm, your arms wrapping around his neck.

A few hard thrusts gave before you felt his hot seed spill into your insides. He let himself ride his own orgasm out, giving a few movements before stopping while still inside you. König would fuck up into your pussy and into your cervix, making sure that you’re fed with every ounce of his cum. His breathing was shallow yet heavy as were yours. Panting, he placed a hand on your cheek, looking at you in a fond way.

“I might be seeing you more often, liebling.”

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whatawonderfulexistence--blog · 6 months

Text

Fall For Me (Poly! Sleep Token x Fem! Reader) - Part II

Thank you to @spookyghostjelly for beta reading and letting me be insane in her DM's ❤️❤️❤️

WARNINGS: None

Part I ~ Part III

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sigh as you finish your closing duties, giving the door one last pull to make sure it was locked with a tired sigh. You walked around to the back of the building, heading up to your apartment that was very conveniently located on top of your store. You kick the door shut behind you, haphazardly throwing your shoes in the entryway. You put the kettle on the stove, leaning against the counter and looking out the window as you waited for the water to boil. Your mind immediately wandered back to Vessel, your short interaction had left you with so many unanswered questions. Where did he come from? Why did he choose this sleepy little town of all places to settle down? Was he actually part of a cult? He was so different from what you had imagined. Hearing all the reports in the paper you had been terrified to run into any of them. Vessel, in what scraps of his personality you had seen, seemed so gentle. You were snapped from your thoughts by the sound of the kettle singing.

"At least our mystery man has a name now." You chuckle to your empty apartment. You guess you would just have to wait and see what tomorrow brought.

Music blasted through the speakers in the empty store, you sang along loudly with your favorite songs as you worked on restocking the shelves. You groaned as you hoisted one of the heavy crates of produce off the counter. You screamed, oranges scattering across the floor as you lost hold of the crate. There standing at the door was Vessel. Seeing that he had finally caught your attention, he pointed to his wrist as if he was motioning to a watch. You paused your music and quickly headed over to open the door for him. "I'm so sorry, I completely forgot to tell you we close early tonight." You blurt out the second you open up. Your eyes land on Vessel, this was the first time you had been standing in front of him without the barrier of the counter. He was a lot taller than you had realized, you stumbled back slightly to put some distance between you and the absolute wall that was his body. "Every Sunday I have to restock the store, I close at four."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'll just-"

"No!" You exclaim, waving your hands wildly in front of you. "No, really, it's my fault. You come in and get what you need, just don't mind the mess. It'll take me a couple minutes to reopen the register." You motion him inside, he follows you hesitantly. He looks around the store, various pallets and stacks of crates are organized into neat categories waiting to be put away. From what he could see it was definitely more work than one person should be handling by themselves.

"Is it just you that works here?" You nod in response as you drop onto your knees to start collecting the oranges you had dropped. Your hand jerked back as your fingers bumped into Vessel's. Your eyes dart up to look at him, "it's my fault you dropped the crate, I'd like to help you pick up a little if that's alright." He says softly as he remains completely still. He could tell being so close to him made you nervous, yet it was somehow different than interactions he had in the past. You weren't scared, more… shy.

"You don't have to go to all that trouble, Vessel, really." You try to reassure him.

"And you shouldn't be alone trying to restock all of this inventory by yourself." You almost rolled your eyes at the statement.

"I've been managing just fine by myself for the last seven years, I think I can handle a spilled crate of fruit." He chuckles at your determined tone.

"I never said you couldn't," he returns to the task of picking up produce as he talks. "I'm saying you shouldn't have to. You work hard, I can tell by how meticulously your store is always maintained." He trails off for a moment, not exactly sure how to phrase his next statement. "I guess I'm just curious as to why you don't have any help."

"There isn't anybody I like enough to have them work here with me." You smile. "This place is my home, literally, my apartment's upstairs." He shakes his head with a slight laugh. "If they aren't someone I would invite into my home they're not someone I would want to spend hours upon end in here with them. Besides, I like working, it keeps me occupied." Vessel finishes helping you clean up. "You go get your groceries, I'm sure you have a long drive back to… your camp? House?"

"Camp works." He quips. You head up to the counter to get the register up and running again, knowing his supply runs never took long. You found yourself unable to tear your eyes away from him. The strange red sigil in the center of his white mask, the ornate detailing on the bottom edge, the black paint that covered every area of exposed skin, everything about him just made you curious. Your eyes snapped to your register as he glanced in your direction and you swore you heard the sound of him quietly chuckling. He carries his groceries up to the counter and lays them out.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"You can ask me as many questions as you want, I can't guarantee I'll answer." He responds bluntly.

"What made you decide to finally start talking to me?" He seemed a bit taken aback by your question, not expecting you to be so forward.

"It's no secret that a lot of people don't like the fact that we're around. Luckily, the only real nuisance we've had to deal with are the reporters, but I'm still worried about what would happen if we ventured too far into town. But, we needed supplies. We could only last so long on the sorry excuse of a garden we managed to start when we originally bought the land, your store is relatively close by and out of the way. As far as why I started talking to you, you're the only person I've met from this town so far that hasn't greeted me with hostility." Vessel laughs softly at your shocked expression. "I'm tired of running (Y/N). Tired of having to move from city to city every other month to try and keep ahead of the backlash from people who don't understand us. If I'm going to do that I need a place to come get supplies where I won't immediately get chased off, someone I can trust in my time of need… after some thought I think you might be that person. There's something special about you, I think we were fated to meet each other, I'm just not sure why yet."

"Well, I appreciate that." You can't help but smile at the admission. He trusted you. "If there's anything I can ever do to help you guys out, just say the word."

"Actually, there is something. Would it be alright if I start coming to grab supplies after you close, at least on Sunday's?" He asks.

"Of course you can. I was actually going to ask if that would work better for you." You admit with a chuckle. "I know that a lot of people around these parts tend to be pretty… close minded, to put it gently. I think it's smart for you to wait until you're ready to have those interactions." He nods his thanks at your agreement, collecting his belongings, and heading towards the door.

"Next Sunday it might not be just me, don't be intimidated." He dismissed himself with a chuckle, leaving you to finish restocking.

You pondered over who exactly he would be bringing with him. No one knew for sure how many members there were living in the woods, from what you had seen everyone except for Vessel dressed relatively similar. You were tempted to ask him throughout your daily visits, but you also didn't want to pry. As next Sunday arrived you kept anxiously looking up at the clock, waiting for closing time to roll around. You bid farewell to your final customer as you locked up. Just as you had pulled the key from the deadbolt you saw the familiar sight of an old, beat up pick up truck rumble into the parking lot. Vessel got out, talking to whoever was seated in the passenger seat before heading in your direction. You waved at him, opening up the door and stepping outside. "Is your friend coming in too?" You ask quietly as he gets closer to you.

"Yeah, he is. I just wanted to tell you something first. II isn't much of a talker until he gets to know people… He also has a staring problem." You laugh, Vessel returns your enthusiasm with a smile.

"If I can handle you giving me the silent treatment for a full week I think I can handle it big guy, don't worry." He waves at his friend to come join you. You waited in anxious anticipation as the passenger door opened, two heavy black leather boots thudding against the pavement as someone jumped out. The slam of the door echoes through the surrounding trees as you finally could see just who Vessel brought with him. II was a bit shorter than Vessel with a lean frame. His striking blue eyes met yours through the holes in his mask, black cloth with the same rune that adorned Vessel's, yet his covered the entirety of his face.

"II, this is (Y/N)." He slowly approaches you, you could tell he was studying you. He offers his hand which you timidly accept. His hand was warm around yours as he feigned the action of bringing your knuckles to his lips, his eyes never leaving your face. "Come on, I didn't bring you to flirt with her." You see the corners of II's eyes crinkle as he chuckles at Vessel's joke. He straightens up, moving swiftly to the door, holding it open and motioning for you to walk inside.

"Thank you II." You smile sweetly at him. Vessel claps him on the back as he walks past.

"We're here to help, what do you need?" He offers kindly.

"Oh, I couldn't ask you both to do that." II steps forward, offering you his arm. You cautiously take it with a curious expression. He leads you to your chair behind the counter, pulling it out for you to sit. He rolls up his sleeves, picking up the first box of stock he saw and searching for its tag.

"See? You don't even have to ask?" Vessel chuckles. You got your restock done in half the time you normally did with their help. Vessel stood in front of the register as you rang him up, smoking smugly. "Wasn't that easier than doing it all yourself?"

"What? You looking for a job?" You shoot back, you hear II breathe out a chuckle at your joke. You bag up his groceries, handing them off with a smile. "II, hopefully I'll see you next week." He nods his goodbye as he heads out the door.

"I think he likes you." Vessel jokes.

“He’s sweet.” You giggle. “If your whole group is this nice you’re welcome in my store anytime.” Vessel smiles at your statement.

“You’ll meet the others eventually, I think they’d enjoy getting to know you.” He starts walking towards the door, shooting you a flirtatious smirk. You waved goodbye to them through the window, catching II’s gaze as they drove off. The next night as you sat reading at the counter you smiled as the familiar sound of Vessel’s sputtering engine met your ears as he pulled into the lot. You looked up as the bell jingled over the door, your greeting froze in your throat as you realized it wasn’t Vessel who had entered the store.

“Hey II.” You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face at the sight of him.

“(Y/N).” He greets you with a slight nod. His gaze traps you in place as his eyes meet yours, he saunters up to the counter, his hands shoved in his pockets.

“No Vessel today?” You ask, trying to keep your flustered state a secret.

“He had something to take care of today.” You could hear the gentle intonation of a smile in his voice. “Call me selfish but I wanted the chance to see you again.” You let out a flustered giggle. He leans his elbows on the counter, bringing his face impossibly close to yours. His eyes slowly scan over your features before catching your gaze. “He sent me with a list, think you could help me out?”

“Yeah, sure.” You stutter, making your way around the counter. He hands the list over to you, trailing behind you to hold everything you pulled from the shelves. You struggled to reach something on one of the higher shelves, a shiver ran up your spine at the sudden warmth that spread across your back as II stepped closer to you.

“Allow me.” He gazes down at you, bright blue eyes studying you for a moment. You feel his eyes on you the entire time as you scanned all of his groceries. You handed the bags over to him, his fingers brushing over yours. You smile bashfully as your eyes lock with his. “Hopefully I’ll see you soon.” He gazes at you playfully.

“Yeah, hopefully.” He bows slightly as he heads for the door.

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

“Goodnight, II.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#sleep token fanfiction #sleep token x reader #sleep token #sleep token iii #iii sleep token #ii sleep token #sleep token ii #iv sleep token #sleep token iv #vessel #vessel sleep token #sleep token vessel #vessel x reader #ii x reader #iii x reader #iv x reader

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xiaoluvss · 25 days

Text

the pretty boy at the café. ₊˚⊹ ♡₊˚

— your favorite barista !

(barista!xiao & regular customer!reader)

✧.* barista!xiao who was the barista you always saw each time you visited your favorite café, which you were a known regular in.

✧.* barista!xiao who you thought was extremely attractive from the first moment you saw him. his slender figure, slender hands when he worked, attractive yet stoic face, the piercings on his ears, and the way his uniform complemented his features so well . . you fell in love almost immediately.

✧.* barista!xiao who developed from 'a tiny crush' to a huge one where you started thinking about him every day.

✧.* barista!xiao who the more you'd visit, the more he'd start to notice you.

✧.* barista!xiao who was your favorite barista, and you, his favorite customer.

✧.* barista!xiao who eventually memorized the drink you'd always order from how often you'd come here . . memorizing what time you usually come by and then have the drink ready by the time you arrive. you were surprised (and flustered) when he himself handed you your drink before you even got to order.

✧.* barista!xiao whose co-workers started teasing him due to the slight difference in his attitude whenever you were in the café. now he was the one who was starting to develop a tiny crush on you.

✧.* barista!xiao who finds himself staring at you as you read a book in your table while he's making drinks or wiping down the counter. his co-workers usually notice this and nudge his side with a teasing smirk.

✧.* barista!xiao who's less nonchalant and cold towards you, seemingly having all his attention on you whenever you speak to him. you were really sweet . . and nice, and so perfect to him in his eyes.

✧.* barista!xiao who seems more agitated whenever you aren't visiting the café. he'd always seem to be much more gloomy when you aren't there.

✧.* barista!xiao who noticed you staring at his arms and hands one time, which caused the slightest smirk to appear on his face.

✧.* barista!xiao who you scolded one time, asking him to come closer with a worried look on your face as he seemed a bit tired. you took a closer look at his face and started scolding him, saying that he should rest more and that he shouldn't overwork himself. he actually listened to you, which was a rare thing for him to do with anyone else.

✧.* barista!xiao who puts little cat doodles (or doodles, in general) next to your name on the cups whenever you order, so that he could see that tiny smile of yours every time.

✧.* barista!xiao who'd keep each and every gift you'd give to him. he really appreciates you, he just won't show it. there's no way he'd admit that . . right?

✧.* barista!xiao who gifted a cute plush keychain to you, looking away with his cheeks tinted a light shade of pink. that became the first time he received a hug from you, and the moment he found out how good you actually smelled.

✧.* barista!xiao who can't hide his blush whenever he sees that exact keychain dangling on your bag when you enter the café. he remembers your hug each time he looks at it.

✧.* barista!xiao whose number you eventually found on a piece of paper taped to your drink's cup, with an 'add me?' written in neat handwriting. you found that he also added his instagram username at the bottom of the paper.

AHHDHSKDSK WHEN HE'S COLD TO OTHERS BUT NOT TO YOUUU

anyways,, I'm on a roll now omg😭I've been posting so muchhh I just really hope you guys enjoy them ૮₍˶ ╥ ‸ ╥ ⑅₎ა

thankyu for taking the time to read my works !!

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